Then she snapped them back open, forcing herself to lower the goblet before she could take a single sip. “We have to talk about Mother first,” she said, “and Connall and Alys and how we can get them all free from those horrible dukes. They need us! If we don’t—”

“Your mother,” said Grandmother, “made her own decisions long ago without a thought to the consequences for anyone else. Now.” Her voice hardened, and her long fingers closed around Cordelia’s smaller hand, raising the goblet firmly to Cordelia’s chin. “Drink!”

Cordelia’s lips parted in surprise. Obediently, she tilted the cup under the pressure of Grandmother’s strong fingers. The first taste met her tongue in a splash of delight.

A loud thump! beside her made her lower the goblet with a start. Rosalind’s chin had slid off her fist and sent her toppling forehead-first onto the oak table. Even that impact hadn’t woken her, though. She sprawled out, snoring, with her arms and legs outflung at angles that looked horribly painful.

“Silly,” mumbled Giles on Rosalind’s other side. “Making all that noise!” His eyes had only half opened at the sound; he closed them again now as he slid farther and farther down, until he’d curled his long limbs comfortably across the round table, resting his head on their sister’s prone body. “Jus’ lie down for a nap, that’s all, no fuss or performance …” His voice trailed off into a drifting snore.

“Poor dears,” Grandmother murmured gently. “You’re so tired from your adventures all alone in the forest. But you can rest now. You’re with family again.”

Family. That much was true.

But Cordelia’s head was spinning with the steam from her drink, and the images before her warped and melded into senseless combinations against her will. Giles and Rosalind both spread out before her, loose-limbed and vulnerable. Grandmother, with their mother’s familiar eyes and nose, smiled victoriously down at them …

… Grandmother, who had waited twelve years for this moment, and whom no one else in the family had ever mentioned.

Dread crawled on spider legs through Cordelia’s stomach. Her voice came out as a whisper as she rose from her seat, setting the goblet back onto the table. “What were you waiting to do all these years?” she demanded. “And why would my drinking this make everything easier?”

“Oh dear. And here I thought you might be the clever one!” Sighing, Grandmother put one hand on Cordelia’s shoulder and pushed her back down into place. “Isn’t it obvious? Drinking this will make everything easier for me, because it’ll stop you from trying to escape! My daughter caused me so much trouble over the years with her attempts. But do you know what, my dear?”